Hello, I am having such a great time but at the moment it is so late and I should really be in bed but I can't help it.   Alright, maybe it's the coffee as well. 

 

Anyways, one of my regrets is that I don't have my book with me at the moment.  I always take notes about the days so that I can recall every detail when it comes time to writing.  When was the last time I wrote?  Hue.  That's right.  Soon after that I decided I didn't like Hue.  Everything wasn't just expensive it was a deliberate rip-off to the tourists.  I was so mad.  There is some sort of absolutely amazing palace to see and I went and then saw that the tickets were 4 times the price of the locals' tickets.  Why is that?  I was so put off by it that I just looked at the outer walls.  Since then I've seen some postcards but as for me I haven't seen the palace in Hue.  I took a boring tour bus to Hoi an. 

 

I should say that Hue did have one really neat highlight.  I liked the hostel.  Such a roomy dorm and only $2.  The first night I was there I came in late to find that only 4 other beds were occupied.  It also turned out that 2 were employees of the hotel.  We sat on the balcony and talked about touring Vietnam. It was neat to have the comparrison and it was nice to have a Vietnamese on my side when I complained about the varying prices. Conversation, that was the highlight.

 

I took a bus to Hoi An and then spent a good hour stomping up and down the city looking for a cheap room.  Since I have been in Vietnam I haven't spent more than $3 for a bed.  Now there is just no stopping me.  I am so determined not to pay more that I don't take the time to sit and realize what a good deal even $5. Everyone told me that it was impossible to find a bed for $3 in Hoi An.  Well, one hotel was eager to help and mentioned that it had one guest that was staying alone and that they could ask if this guest would be willing to share a room.  That's how I met Asaf, Helena, Anne, Dror, and Noam.  Asaf is Isreali, male, if you're wondering, and he introduced me to everyone else. He agreed to share.  He seemed a bit uncomfortable about the deal but that's a good sign.   I just thought back to fishing in Alaska, so it's a hotel room, but I didn't share it with 3 other guys like I had to on the boat. 

 

It turns out that Hoi An is the city of tailors.  And suddenly I found myself planning my wardrobe. The first actual day in Hoi An the girls and I went to a tailor shop and commenced to design some magnificant outfit.  I got nowhere.  Totally stumped.  We actually spent the entire day in a building that was like a pole shed, filled with aisles of fabric and rows of sewing machines that were stuttering away.  The noise, the choices, the indecisions, the impatient tailor, it slowly rolled itself into a frustrating mess.  I settled on my wool pants.  Ever since I dreamed about hiking the Appalation trail I've dreamed of doing it in wool capris.  So I had them made.  A cost of $12.  I did no sight seeing.

 

The next day was similar, it was all about price checks for better bargains.  I was outside more and I had a great time talking to Noam but there was a feeling that I really didn't like.  All day at the tailor we were constantly bombarded by people selling things.  It was all the same and cheap.  Clay whistles, packs of postcards, beads on elastic, massages, pedicures, and they were so annoyed if you refused.  As long as they came down in thier price by a couple of cents then we should feel the impulse to buy.  There was this seething conflict continuosly going on and I finally realized what it was on my third day.  It was greed.  You just couldn't escape it.  All the Vietnamese wanted your money.  The competition was endless, it wasn't just every other shop that was a tailor it was an entire street.  Rows of tailor shops, rows of shoe shops. Rows of restaurants and sitlos.  Every step you took someone was asking you to come in and buy something.  In itself that isn't so abnormal for a tourist spot.  That's the way of street markets but the way that this place was differant was that the tourists wanted something as well.  They wanted clothes or shoes.  Something wonderful and fancy and trendy made especially for them and not only that but at a tiny cost.  So the locals doubled thier prices for the "wealthy" tourists and the tourists fought every price.  And you had to.  Water, hotels, motorbikes, bread.  I ordered my pants, and then a shirt and then another and a few more things and I began to look for a place to make my dream shoes.  Everyone wanted the most for as little as possible.  You would haggle for a sandwhich, get them to drop 2,000 dong off the price (about 15 cents) and then you were handed a bagette with some dry flavorless chicken and paper thin tomato slices.  I walked all day haggling and price checking for a simple shirt and finally got it made for a cost of $5, when I put it on I realized that the material was a polyester blend.  In fact I think all the material was a blend.  That's when I wished Mom was traveling with me.  We could have so much fun.  I could haggle and she could make sure things were made right. 

 

There was such a mistrust and aversion to Vietnamese that was formed.  Anyone that approached you and was nice to you was selling something and if someone was nice to you when you were buying something from them it meant that they were going to extort you for more money.  I felt such a seperation from the country.  Then my Western friends made more so.  There was this aversion to eating at a restaurant if it wasn't in the Lonely Planet guidebook. In fact when Noam and I wandered to the Vietnamese section of town and found a real Vietnamese restaurant he hadn't actually been to one yet.  Usually there is one entree, if you know Vietnamese they will tell you what they are serving and if you don't speak Vietnamese they will take the cover off the pot, stir up the concotion and you decide from there.  None of the others had seen this yet either.  It was talk about "them". "You have to be sharper with them," "Just ignore them."  Any tourists that I talked to talked this way.  Then there was the information provided by the locals.  It was all biased and sided for the item that they were trying to sell.  "Don't buy clothes in the market because it's more expensive", "don't buy clothes in the shops because they are inexperianced,""They are quoting you that price because they won't make it with real leather," on and on. 

 

The best time I had was when we were talking about something other than Vietnam.  In fact there was very interesting conversations to be heard between the Isrealis and the German girls.  To watch a generation try to explain a war that was before thier time, to convey thier perspective from such differant angles.  Noam and I had great talks as well as I tried to explain what I wanted to see in Isreal, other Isreali travelors, and trying to compare the Civil Rights movement and racism to the Arab/Israeli conflict.  It's strange to be a travelor because you suddenly find yourself being the representative of your entire country.  And you are also the reporter for the countries that you have just been to.  How are you supposed  sum up a country from the experiances that a week or so has given you?  Hoi An was a time for a constant furrowed brow, frustration, anger, or deep thought.  I like the beech. 

 

Asaf and I shared the room 2 nights.  Then he was gone.  I was off trying to find another $2 room.  There was no way I could afford to compromise.  I spent so much money on clothes.  And so worthless.  I could barely stand to wear my shirts in the heat.  They don't breathe.  Anyways, the room.  Noam and Dror found out that I knew Thai Massage.  I had given each of the girls a massage the first chance I got.  The guys were both eager as well, it came about on a particularily stressful day.  It also turned out that they had room in their room for one more person so I actually got  a free night.  I keep telling myself that it's more private than the boats in Alaska but still, it's a hotel room.  It does feel odd.  No matter how platonic the guys are.  Oh well, I happily shrugged it off as I thought of the oodles of money that I was saving.  It also meant that it was time to move on.  Everyone else was ready to leave as well.  It was strange or interesting to see everyone have such miserable days.  Jackets didn't fit, dresses weren't made the way the picture had been drawn and everyone felt the constant pull to part with thier money. 

 

Wed. I packed and decided I had to do something to get back to the Vietnam that I had first liked.  I had been on edge since Hue.  So I turned down all the deals and urgencies to take the wonderful spacious, fast, tourist buses and was determined to wave down another local bus.  Man, the things I was told about local buses, the breakdowns, how long it took, they cost the same price, they were dangerous, the people were dangerous, you'll be robbed, you can't catch the local bus in Hoi An, no one will speak english, no one can help you if you are in trouble, it was endless.  But I did it.  I was finally able to find some objective advice on how to catch a local bus.  I had to take a motorbike 7 km out of town to hwy1 but I did that.  It cost me $1.  It was a big step of faith as well. I like to  laugh and think of my daily steps of faith.  Every time that I crossed the road in Bangkok, to take one slow step at a time as motorbikes fly past you.  To eat food that I have never seen before.  How was it cooked?  How wasit grown?  When was it cooked?  Whenever I  get on a motorbike, and this time when I did it was dark.  I don't read travel guides much but hotels often have them around or friends do and it's a nice way to pass the time.  The last info I had read was warning about taking motorbikes at night because tourist were sometimes mugged.  I just love forboding.  Then when I finally agreed to go with this one motorbike, another guy, a friend, followed us.  I didn't like that and then we stopped at a gas station and this friend took my backpack on his bike.  Great, I didn't like that either.  I demonstrated this by writing his license plate number in my book.  I wasn't too worried though.  There was nothing of real value in my pack and after Hoi An I felt like I was getting to attached to possesions, maybe I need to lose my backpack.  I was lucky though because throughout trip time I was provided clues of assurance that these were decent people.  They stayed with me beside the road for who knows how long.  Determined to help me flag a bus but there was none.  Finally one of the men assured me that he could show me a beech that I could sleep at till early morning when buses would be passing by Hoi An for sure. 

 

Man, that ride to the beech was another real faith test.  I told you I don't like traveling at night.  I never feel comfortable and this certainly was no exception.  I have no knowledge of the countryside but my mind raced to click the pieces together as we went down one windy road after another.  I was surprised and pleased at how well I could pick out where we were in relation to the town and the beech.  Places I had glanced at in the last 3 days were recalled and pieced together with direction and streets.  It was enough to realize that we were going in nearly the opposite direction of the beech that I had visited.  The thing is that I was sure about 2 things.  One, is that I knew nothing really bad would happen, it would be such an ugly part in my story, it just doesn't fit, and two, I knew something not so great was going to happen.  You know, when someone starts hitting on you.   I mean come on, it was late, it was dark, he was a stranger, said that he was single, was helping me out for free, we were going to a beech and it didn't seem like the touristy one.  I just kept thinking to myselk, "gentle as a lamb, wise as a serpent."  I was also sizing him up and thinking of my thick, heavy, sollid scrapbook.  Asian guys are so small.  So last week I traded myself for a room.  I'm not totally niave.  I've been traveling forever it seems and guys are all the same.  They have a major misunderstanding about American single girl travelors.  It can have advantages but there's also the side affects.  This would be a side affect.  I had a long night of assertiveness, some evasive maneuvers.  No violence necessary, just a lot of talking, a couple shoves, body language is universal.  When he finally gave up and went to sleep (a good distance away from me) I was able to enjoy the clear sky and bright stars.  I didn't sleep that well because I gave him the sleeping bag.  The beech was full of basket like boats.  It was like the saucers from the Alice in Wonderland ride at Disney World had washed ashore.  They weren't that comfortable but they were a nice windbreak.  At 2:30 he kindly drove me back to the highway and within 5 min. he had gotten me a bus headed to the right spot and at a Vietnamese price, about $5.75, NOT the $10 the travel agents had threatened about.  I was thrilled and extrememely grateful.  Grateful for his help and grateful to leave him and Hoi An behind.

 

Once I was on the local bus I was back in the Vietnam I had first arrived in.  I was so surprised at the differance.  Everyone was nice because they are really nice.  No one tried to sell me anything and the women that would board the bus or wave thier wares by the windows charged me Vietnam prices.  I loved it.  I felt so at home.  To be on the move once again.  To stop at little places that would never be in a guide book.  To eat the local food in the local way.  To have none of the signs translated into english.  This was Vietnam.  Me and the other travelors smiled at each other. We shared food together.  They would motion to me when I needed to board the bus, they'd always point out the toilets, demonstrate how to eat the food.  I was glad not to hear english. "Come in please," You come to my shop?""I give cheap for you," "ok, how much you want?" None.  Riding the bus was such a mystery. I never knew what was going on, didn't know the schedule.  I didn't even know how long it would take to get to Ho Chi Minh City.  At first I thought it was 3 days, then I heard 24 hrs and I heard 15 as well.  This is only the second- no third, local bus that I have ridden and I realized that the drivers have been looking out for me. When I got on this bus and they took my bag for me they had someone move out of a seat and that is where I sat instead, right in front.  Well, as far in front as you can get.  This bus also had the missing seats and the beds in their place. 

 

As the day passed and we passed the 15 hr mark I estimated that this trip would probably be 24 hrs.  I would just about get another free night.  Sometime in the evening we pulled over to repair a flat tire, and seriously, that's what we did.  No spare tires.  And no rush either.  The driver sat in one of the few chairs and the passengers sat around on their haunches talking and smoking away.  It was like a campout around the light that lit the sign for the tire repair place.  The sign was tires with white lettering.  Vietnamese women never smoke.  It's like it's not even considered.  I've seen one old lady smoking and that's it.  I take it that this means there's some sort of a bad stigma if a woman does.  Helena, who smokes, says she got that feeling as well but couldn't quite communicate with the broken english that was provided. Anyways, it was a long wait but I so no signs of impatience.  I did get to see how bald the tires were that were driving on.  That's not encouraging, no wonder why we got a flat.  I was waiting for it to go out again. 

 

We stopped once more for food and after that I fell asleep.  Sometime in the night the bus stopped and I had the feeling of many of the passengers getting off.  I was quickly woken up by a motorbike owner eager to relieve me of my money and take me somewhere that I had no idea about.  But with a motion from the bus driver I found that I could sleep for the rest of the night on the bus.  The motorbike guy went away.  I slept.  It was 2 am and I was thrilled.  Another $2 saved AND I got to sleep.  Till 6:00 and then the same motorbike guy was back, poking at me.  Absolutely no english so I talked all I wanted and he did the same.  Finally I got it across that I wanted to sleep for another hour. 

 

I went from about the middle of Vietnam straight south.  There were a couple other cities that sounded like they might be of some interest but they were recommended by people associated with tourism.  It's sad and maybe a little childish to skip so much culture and sights just because of the hassle but that's what I did.  If there is some fantastic festival or something really old and barely standing then I can check out a book about it at the library.  Instead I was intent on the one address I had in my scrapbook.  A possible contact in Ho Chi Minh City.  I wanted to talk to real people.  I don't want to be catered to.  I avoided the motorbike guy fairly well.  I didn't like him.  He was just annoying.  I felt like I was his meal ticket.  He just kept talking to me in Vietnamese.  By 7:00 the bus driver was awake as well.  It was time to leave, he told me 10,000 and I handed it over with a sigh.  Maybe my night wasn't as free as I had thought but still, it wasn't even a dollar.  He handed back 50,000 in change.  I had given a 50,000 bill.  Here, this was the price that this motorbike guy was asking.  He would show me where I could make a phonecall. Blah.  I had done the phone gesture hoping to illustrated that I had my own plans.  How hard is it to find a phone?  Not worth a dollar.  So I walked out of the parking area that the bus was in.  Ha, there was a phone right outside.  I called up Thai, the guy that I had talked to for about half an hour in Vinh a week earlier.  There was a bit of fumbling in conversation and the meeting place.  It's quite inconveniant when I don't know where I am. In the end I was on the motorbike heading into Ho Chi Minh City.  Unfortunately for me I didn't pause to set a price with the motorbike guy and he tried to charge me 50,000 dong.  What a ride we had, we crossed 2 bridges that were originally walkway bridges but were turned into tiny 2 lane roads for motorbikes. Absolutely packed.  Everything and everywhere was packed with motorbikes.  We got to drive through flooded streets as well.  It started rather shallow and I lifted my feet above the spray but it quickly got deeper and deeper till I simply gave up, my feet were covered in murky brown water and the hem of my lao skirt was soaked.  I was sitting side saddle again.  Did I tell you how much fun I have doing that?  "Regal" , that's the word that I keep thinking of.  I feel so ladylike when I feel so vulnerable.  My skirt is this stiff, sort of heavy, shimmery green material and it has embroidery.  It's just below my ankles.  I think of queens with their personal. . .chair . ..thing.  I also liked when we got out of the deepest area of the street and to the intersection.  There was this huge section of the road unofficially designated for all the motorbikes that had stalled out.  engines were revving or sputtering, guys were tinkering, rags were out and spark plugs and sparkplug wires were exposed.  During a very long period of sitting in a traffic jam I laughed to myself about my images of royalty.  I counted how wide the row of motorbikes were.  10.  Ten motorbikes across 2 lanes and filling everypart of visible road.  My nose, my throat, my eyes, my head, took in all thier fumes as well as the bus that we sat directly behind.  I was trying to determine wether I was feeling high, suffocated or sick and that's about the time that my motorbike driver lit a cigarette.  I decided I felt sick.

 

Once I had arrived at Thai's we reintroduced, I met his family, I gave him a bit of an update about my time in Vietnam and then we had a bit of akward conversation.  He had talked about Com Tum and the villages and I wanted to go so bad.  I wanted to know everything but I was also wondering why he was being so helpful.  Thu, his wife took me by the hand and we went to the zoo and inside to some museum about ancient Thailand.  They gave me breakfast and lunch and then we went on rented bikes to explore the city and I got to feel real terror.  I was no longer a passenger in this mob of motorbikes but I was a piddly little bicycle trying not to fall behind Thu.  I don't know if there is a way to describe the overload of motion.  There's the road moving like a conveyor belt beneath you, wheels spinning all around you, bikes weaving.  There was no safe way to take it all in.  You had to focus on something small like not falling over and getting run over a hundred times.  I watched the wheels that were closest to me.  It looked like we were all chained to a bike rack.  The thing that helped me focus, or more like to ignore the bazillion dangers around me, was the fear of losing Thu and being in the middle of this mess alone.  At first I attempted the kissing tires like we used to play as kids.  Where you follow so close behind but it seemed like no matter what, someone always found a way between us.  I thought of another analogy to add to the list of "Common Travel Emotions".  Last week it was the deer in the headlights but when it's not that it's "my head is spinning,"  The phrase always reminded me of Paulterguiste (Poltergiste- Pultarguiste- How in the world do you spell that?) but  now I can finally see it. It's my brain, some warning light comes on in the outside world and I reach up to the top of my head, give a flick with my wrist and send my brain spinning like a top.  I go through commercials, movies, books, childhood experiances, scriptures, words of advice, old maps, things you would think have no connection to travel dramas.  With a wobble I finally land on a possible solution, like in roulette, and I go.  For this scenario I came up with the horse books that I read when I was little and how the foal would run with it's mother, it's nose pressed against her flanks and that soon was me. Running in a stampede of motorbikes I rode more kitty corner to Thu (pronounced To), front tire to her back tire with the seperation  anxiety of a foal thrown in for that authentic wild mustang feeling.

 

Thrilling, at one point I looked up to take in the whole scenery and just about lost it.  It looked like one of those medivel obsticle courses.  You know, the ones that are only in movies where there's all the axes and blades swinging back and forth across one narrow path.  I had the view of about 3 intersections.  There were lines of motorbikes going in every direction with a few buses and cars thrown in.  God will only know how many times I missed the ICU or death but I counted at least 3.  One was a bus that I unexpectedly found myself fighting over space with, there was the oncoming motorbike coming down the gutter the wrong way (it's a time saver for, them a common thing), the motorbike shooting out of the blind alley, the motor bike cutting through traffic and into an alley- with that one I found that my bike slides sideways when you press too quick and too hard on the brakes, there was the lampost or the curb, either of those would have been painful but I was aiming for the 8 inches of sidewalk that was between them.  I guess that's more than 3 close calls.  The occasional shouts of "Oy, oy, oy!" that I heard behind me makes me wonder if there were others. 

 

Each time that we arrived at our destination the world seemed clearer and quieter.  We visited a Pagoda and the War Museum.  Unfortunately, I only got to spend 15 min. in the War Museum.  I wanted so much to see how Vietnam portrayed it.  I did get to look at and touch a helicopter.  You know the common US one.  HU-I or something.  I know the name, just not how to spell it.  It's the kind that you would fly in, isn't it, Uncle Gary?  There is so much more I want to know.  You can tell that the war is a part of thier lives.  Everyone can tell me a story about the Americans, "So many miles from here is where 150 villagers were killed," "This is how many towers remained standing after the bombings,""All this was flattened," on and on. Tourists are the ones that told me that Vietnamese don't like Americans.  So far, though, my experiance has been that as long as you aren't happy with Bush you're fine by them.  Most times someone has family living in America and it's like you suddenly have a connection.

 

At Thai's I was afraid and ashamed that I thought he might be planning on charging some enormouse fee for his generosity.  I was so wary.  Then his wife invited me to her father's memorial service.  They're Catholic.  Her dad died in a car accident 25 yrs ago and they remember his death every year.  I attended the Catholic mass in my new polyester mix shirt, the adrenaline still pumping, my bike parked in back.  Miserable blends.  I oozed.  Horses look so pretty glistening in sweat.  I did not feel pretty.  I found myself nearly standing in the middle of the aisle as I tried to get down wind of people.

 

What a memorial dinner.  It was catered at Thu's sister's.  Soup, egg rolls, noodles, stuffed snails, fruit, shredded stuff, and the adults spoke english very well.  I had so much fun talking and visiting, trying to get the names straight and the relations.  There's a cute boy as well for that extra little flutter.  Lucky me, he's studying to be a tour guide and his family felt that he should practice.  I ended up spending the night here instead of at Thai's. Today I got to be a passenger instead of a participant in the traffic.  We went to Pagodas, temples, he played tennis, I visited and watched.  Chinese market, mall, park, tasting Vietnamese drinks.  He took the time to teach me the key Vietnamese phrases.  No problem, I'm full, Not allowed, and, well, maybe I still need to review.  I think the best part was shuttlecock.  We looked at the dictionaries tonight, niether of us are really sure about the correct word but it's a non-competative game like hackey-sack with a larger sort of birdie.  Something similar to the birdie in badmitton.  The key is that it's lighter than a hackey-sack so it's easier to catch on.  There were various circles, from 4 members and up, in the park with varying degrees of skill.  Everyone was a stranger but we kicked that clump of feathers back and forth at each other and had a great time. 

 

I was originally thinking that I would leave for Com Tum in the evening but it turns out that an Uncle, his name sounds like "who" will be going back to Com Tum where he lives, he leaves in the morning. I can have my own traveling companion.  He's an english teacher, knows the hill tribe dialect and all sorts of stuff about the hill tribes.  I was really hoping to live with the tribes for a few days but it sounds like the government is highly suspicious of that.  We'll see.  I think it will pretty much work out.  If nothing else I will leave Vietnam earlier and I can always spend some time in a Thai village before I go back to Bangkok. Who knows, who knows.  They also have internet here at the house so I was able to call home and this message is free.  Well, I hear roosters crowing.  I don't want to know what time it is but I don't think the caffeine has worn off yet.  Maybe the coffee wasn't such  a good idea tonight.  Nyu? Vu?  My tourguide and I went out with one of his friends and his friend's girlfriend.  Then we all talked and joked and had a good time.  And I don't know his name.  All right.  I better get going.  I have a 12 hr bus ride at 7:00, recooperation time.  Hopefully I will be able to stay here when I come back to Ho Chi Minh City and before I move on to Cambodia, then I can tell you what happened in the mountains.  Talk you soon.

 

Love,

Rachael  

 

PS saw some mail in my mail box but didn't read.

 

Mom, the AK pictures are real pictures, not a CD. 

Hey all, I think I am on just about the slowest e-mail ever!  It took me 10 min just to delete and read my mail (3 messages).  Anyways, I have had such a blast traveling.  I mean, being in travel mode. Sunday, when I last wrote I was savoring the last moments of just hanging out with friends and exploring a small town.  After that I did a Thai massage on Vanessa, by the way, hello Vanessa and welcome to my mass e-mail group.  I hope you don't mind too much but I'll be talking about you as if you're not here.  So, Vanessa from England was great.  We had a blast, just talking about life and travel and plans and what should come first, travel or plans.  She was also extremely generous and gave me a skirt. It's like The Skirt that everyone buys at the markets.  Me, to cheap to invest in one.  But I did go off an buy another scarf.  What was I thinking. I couldn't help it it was the brightest cherry red.  Poor Katy, one of the other girls I had hooked up with was ill. I was supposed to give her a Thai massage on the boat and never got around to it.  I was able to practice on Vanessa before I had to run off and catch my bus.  I was hoping for an overnight to Vientiane.  Of all the times when I was running late and needed a tuk tuk there was none to be found.  I ended up on some other thing, it was like a motorbike with a ferris wheel seat attached to the side and an umbrella over that. It was quite fun but the only thing keeping me in the seat and not from flying forward into the road was a little bar that acted as a footrest. 

 

I got to a random bus where there was a bunch of buses.  I assumed this had to be the bus station. There was a bunch of chattering and I heard "Vientiane"  a couple times then I was being ushered onto an absolutely packed bus.  What about a ticket?  Go with the flow I guess and the flow was pushing me into the bus. In less than 3 min. from arrival we were driving off, people were still climbing on.  I sat on the engine beside the driver and I had to share my seat with 2 other people. Someone else stood on the steps next to the door. I couldn't stop smiling as I thought of the yellow line back home, you know, the one BEHIND the driver. "DO NOT CROSS."   I liked my seat but then was reminded that engines heat up as they grind up mountains.  I also had to sit facing the back of the bus.  I had so much fun watching the rear end swing like a rollercoaster train.  I was always wondering if the rear end would continue to follow the front of the bus or just plunge off the side of the hill.  All the windows were open, I had already planned my emergency exit.  I was so busy watching this weaving that it wasn't until nearly 10 min. into the bus ride that I actually looked at the guy standing in front of me (between all the bags of rice).  His jean jacket was casually hanging off the barrel of a gun.  Not just some farmer's rifle sort of gun but a machine gun. Ha!  Of course, any time I see a gun I fondly think of my dear brother Casey and his undying love for guns and all things loud and explosive.  I knew he would be kicking me for not knowing what kind of gun accompanied me on a bus ride so I studied it, tried to compare it to movie guns.  Most of it was covered by the jacket though.  No luck.  There was one person on the bus that spoke english and very well.  He had lived in Australia for the last 20 yrs and had come home to set up schooling or something for his brothers and sisters because his father had recently died.  Anyways, I asked him about this mystery gun.  He explained that this man was an undercover soldier assigned to protect the bus against highway robbers.  They weren't really a problem any more but the army has nothing better to do.  So there you go.  Oh, and it was an AK-47.  That sort of took the fun out.  I think I liked not knowing better,I like to think that this guy was just carrying another piece of luggage.  The highway robbery stuff sounded a little exciting but more like paranoia.

 

I was so tired.  I didn't sleep at all on Sat.   I was ready to sleep on the bus but I would get rattled out of place every time I let go of a hand hold and put my head down.  There was an old woman who coddled me.  She gave me her pillow, would tell me it's not far- with the help of the the Australian Laos.  She also had 2 bricks of money.  It turns out she's the owner of the bus.  I don't quite understand but I met her husband as well.  There was a bus stop at the top of some hill where some of the passengers off-loaded onto another bus, I was one of them. I had a bite to eat. The woman sent the english speaking Lao on my bus so I would have a companion and interpretor. Thanks.  I spent the rest of the night figuring out how to sleep comforatably on a bus seat.  I should know this! I finally got it about 2 hrs before arriving in Vientiane.  By then I was so tired.  Droopy would be the best word.  Unfortunately it also meant not thinking clearly.  I tried to find out about buses to Vietnam.  I wanted to stop at some small villages in between.  Great, I had a wonderful translator so he was able to tell me that the guy at the desk actually didn't know anything about the buses to Vietnam.  After that I got a tuk tuk and went to the town center.  Not realizing that it was 5 in the morning or even earlier.  I was planning only spending the day.  Vientiane is just a big capital city so I explained to the driver as best as possible that I didn't want a guest house and I didn't know where I wanted to be dropped off. I ended up at a fountain that was turned off.  There were tables and chairs around so I sat at the first one I saw and went right to sleep.  Once in awhile I would feel the presence of morning joggers.  Groups of old ladies walking brisquely around the fountain.  Cool. I still slept, till some lady was waking me up telling me it was 6:00 and I would miss my bus.  I said thank you and started walking to the river.  I ended up finding a little cafe that was built on stilts, like a big tree fort. There was the river bank off a ways but there was this high mound went along side, quite a few feet away.  The path that followed the river was on top of this mound and the cafe was built on stilts so that it was level with the path.  Maybe the mound was the moat during the rainy season.  I don't know.  Anyways, I sat, attempted to paint this cute little place.  Failure.  I kept falling asleep and smearing my brush on my painting.  I finally got up and went to eat there.  It was some sort of noodle soup, later  I discovered what looked like tenticles in it. Great.  I slept at the table.  It's interesting because I remember Vanessa asking me how I can go on such little sleep.  I had been doing great, to bed around midnight and wide awake and out the door at 6:00.  I guess it had finally caught up to me.  Well, 2 nights of no sleep should. Anyways, I tried to draw again, gave up and went exploring.  I found I was on the same route that the tuk tuk had taken.  He had pointed out the morning market so I made my way to that.  I also had a new friendly shadow.  He didn't speak much english but I didn't mind the company.  I started ignoring him more and more as I looked around the market and he started calling me darling.  He finally went away without a word.  I painted some more. I felt better after my various naps but I was still content to sit in the shelter.  I was surrounded by vegetables.  I love painting in life. It's like eavesdropping.  Life goes on around you.  All the vegetable sellers were laughing and chatting back and forth and I painted a little piece of it.  After that I was ready to sleep again and I did.  Right there.  Right there would be on the table that I was sitting on. They were low crate like tables and this one was void of vegetables.  I sat there crosslegged while I painted and when I finished I curled up with my backpack.  I think it was about 2 hrs later when a fluent french speaking Lao warned me about sleeping there because of the police.  I felt much more lively after that and found myself on another bus.  All the inbetween is just the regular hassle of walking, being lost, finding info and making plans.  I wouldn't be able to stop in towns in Lao, it would mean separate tickets at a greater expense so I was suddenly destined for Vinh, Vietnam.  This time I slept the whole bus trip, so cozy.  The trick is a sleeping bag.  It makes all the differance, it fills in the cracks, rounds off the corners and almost extends your sleeping area.  Wonderful. By the way,  I mentioned last e-mail that I lost my bedroll but I would like to clarify. See, when I was packing to leave Dad and I worked on how to most efficiently pack my sleeping bag and foam mat. We ended up rolling them together which worked ok until I was on the overnight train from Bangkok to Chang Mai. Every railing and doorway I got wedged between.  And I mean wedged.  Sometimes it took someone pushing from behind and sometimes I dragged myself through.  For awhile it worked to have the backpack slung over one shoulder then I would just hit every edge I passed but then somehow that stopped working.  At one point I got sick of it, took off my whole backpack and tried to toss it through the doorways.  No, it got wedged by itself and I was reduced to kicking it through the rest of the corridor.  You know, that link between cars.  After that I separated the two, mat and bag, and I had a much more compact backpack and then I left my mat.  So, on to Vinh.

 

Sonja, from England, and I were the only westerners on the bus and what a lovely bus it was, air conditioning, they passed out water, cake and towelettes, it was quiet and I got my own seat.  At the Vietnam border it went right by what the guidebooks say.  Rip. Off.  We had to pay for our piece of health paper that has all the checkmarks that determine wether you might have SARS or not and then we had to pay for our passport stamps or to get our passports back or something.  I think it was $1.  But still, it's the principle, none of it is official charges, it's just people behind a desk taking money from the people that they think have it.

 

Eventually we got to a city, the bus stopped, they waved at me, handed me my bag and I was suddenly off the bus waving apologetically to Sonja, we never got to say good-bye.  She was so sweet.  Every guy I passed patted the seat of his motorbike.  What kind of place is this?  Like they expect me to jump on a bike of some stranger and just take off?  I was motioned over to a little eating place.  Now, it comes in handy to know how they motion for
"come over here"  because that was part of my problem when I was trying to get a tuk tuk in Luang Prabang.  Twice, a tuk tuk slowed down, I hailed and they took off again.  "Come here"  looks like they are waving good-bye, totally confusing. It's actually the smae beckoning motion we use but the palm faces down. Now I know.   

 

They spoke no english.  One girl sort of did.  I ordered some rice, just rice and from there everything was taken care.  I realize that I could never write a book on how to travel because this is how I travel:  I pick a destination.  When I meet someone I show the name to them and from there I'm handed off as someone shuttles me down the road and on to someone else.  I'm the passanger on my solo trip.  This girl took me to a hotel and then to an exchange place, and then back to the hotel.  The hotel was interesting. I wanted to find a cheap room but they told me all thier cheap rooms were full. When I tried to get another room at the cheap price they said no, so I gave up and went to look for another hotel.  Hey, guess what, the cheap rooms are available.  It was wonderful!  A balcony, my own bed, shoes for the shower.  Buckets for water, washing clothes and such. There was furniture even, chair, table, armoir with a circus mirror.  It was just cute and cozy, Bright blue shutters for the doors.  I hadn't figured out the exchange rate yet so I just aimed low and low was 4,000 dom.  The next day I ate at the same little restaurant again.  One guidebook says that 3 meals will equal the price of your accomadation.  I went by that for paying.  I still think it was too much though.I just sat there and listened to the talk.  Watched the people come in.  The hotel was empty as far as I could tell.  Instead I went on a mission to find turpentine.  Try that when no one speaks english.  I got no where but I did meet a man who's traveling on business.  He lives in Ho Chi Minh City and invited me over when I come down.  His english was so good and refreshing.  He says his wife speaks it as well. Awesome.  I won't say anymore.  I just hope it all works out. 

 

I was determined to keep moving.  I had had so much fun on that on bus ride that I wanted to continue it.  Thai, this guy, also told me that the bus was cheaper than train.  Off I went back to the bus station.  Can I add quick that since my first border crossing from Thailand to Laos I have tried to note what makes the asian countries differant from each other.  Well, for Vietnam it would be that all the guys had on green pith helmets, the ladies had the Vietnam straw hats and I saw corn fields.  Really wierd.  Another thing was that I was standing on the median waiting to cross the street when a bus screeched to a halt and started waving at me.  I waved at them.  What?  What did I do?  Another bus started honking behind it.  I didn't see a bus stop sign, I was practically in the middle of the road!  What am I doing?  They muddled off and I crossed the street to find that buses to Quang Bin had gone for the day and I would have to spend another night in Vinh. Quang Bin was a town suggested by Thai that has an amazing cave nearby, it's the 3rd largest cave in the world and just got a world heritage certificate.  Sounds important.  Hey, I'm in Vietnam.  This is what I came to see.  I just didn't know that till I met Thai.  The bus was a problem but I didn't see how it should be.  A girl came and sat next to me to practice her english another bus station approached and through her I learned that it's a common thing to wave down buses as they drive past.  I should be able to catch one that left from Hanoi. This could explain the confusion at the median.  This man also said that the buses got ticketed for stopping in town so you had to go to a bridge or something.  All I had to do was catch a motorcycle there.  This suddenly explained another confusion.  I guess the men just hire out thier motorbikes.  They're like the tuk tuks.  That's what I did.  The other bus station worker was quite unhappy about this.  Too dangerous he kept saying. He was the one that had told me that buses south had finished for the day.  I did paus for a moment.  Danger.  What is Dangerous? I was so excited at this new concept of travel. I wanted to see it for myself!  But then again he was a local but then again everything I do someone else thinks is dangerous. I finally decided and took off.  I did pay attention though. Where was this danger?  Was it paying some stranger and then getting on his motorbike? Was it the bike ride itself? I had worn my Laos skirt for the bus ride but it is not so conveniant on a bike.  I heald my breath and hopped on the bike like I had  seen school girls sit, side saddle.  Just like I've done it a million times.  But sitting side saddle, going around round-abouts and wearing my back pack, just to throw everything off balance, was just thrilling, or petrifying if you happened to glance at the ground.  See, I like Asia though because the motorbikes go about 40 mph, tops.  We just cruise along. 

 

Sure enough I found myself standing at a toll bridge next to a woman toll booth operator.  Was this the danger?  I sat down on my backpack and felt like an idiot.  Everyone else in cars, me actually thinking a bus was going to come along and pick me up.  Then I was joined by a man.  He sat down on his haunches and proceeded to look like he was waiting as well.  Hey, maybe this really does work. I tried to say Quang Bin correctly so that he would understand.  I'd have to say it to the bus driver as well.  After some nodding he took out some document and showed me that he too was from Quang Bin and according to the document he's a sailor.  For Cool!  A bus stopped and he did the talking, motioned for me and I was off.  We were off.  I got ripped off on the price, stupid stupid.  I knew it would happened.  I prepared for it as well.  I asked them at the bus station how much it would cost.  For Vietnamese, they told me, 25,000.  For American, 55,000.  I even looked at the prices on the board and noted that 40,000 gets you to Hanoi which I know is another 8 hrs or so.  Quang Bin was a little less than half of that.  See, I knew.  I handed over 20,000.  They showed me 50,000.  I gave 30,000 for good measure and refused anymore.  I knew I was right.  Or, pretty much.  Finally the boy went to the driver.  I was imagining them throwing me out onto the road as I handed them the other 20,000.  The thing is though, that I think he had given up on getting any more money from me and was handing my fee over when I offered the extra.  Shoot.  I calmed myself down as I rationalized that it was about $1 extra that I had just forked out.  The bus was like a family and I kind of think it was.  I think that they live on it and make thier money by driving one route.  Later I saw another bus like this parked in a residential area.  There was a light on and it looked like there was a group of people sitting around.  On the bus it felt like it was lived in because my seat was more like a bed with a rice mat.  I think the first 2 or 3 row of front seats were missing. 

 

I had the same sort of drop-off, they waved at me, the doors opened, I was handed my pack and I found myself once again standing on a curb with a bunch of guys patting their seats of their motorbikes.  The only thing was that I was in desperate need of a toilet so I hussled into the place behind me.  I'm still not sure what it was.  There were tables like a cafe but it was dark with diso lights and dance music.  There was also a TV playing music videos.  They asked if I wanted a hotel but I didn't, I wanted a cheap place but didn't know how to get that across.  Once again, everyone else just took care of my travel plans.  After some visiting a motorbike showed up for me. They ushered me over. I guess the owners of the disco cafe had make a phone call. I got on, why not. It was a girl and a guy.  I don't know what happened to the girl, I took her spot on the motor bike.  I found myself in front of what would be a ritzy Vietnam hotel.  Fancy leather sofas, marbler, shining brass.  The works.  Oops, not in my budget.  The same girl appeared on the street out of nowhere.  Still don't quite understand that but it added to the nice "Wizard of Oz" feeling.  The rooms were 150,000 dom.  I still didn't know what that was but compared to the 40,000 I had paid the previous night, it was a lot.  The owner/receptionist didn't speak any english but guess what, she spoke German.  In fact, she was the second Vietnamese that I met that spoke German.  It's odd to be in Asia and saying words that make me think "Oktoberfest" but hey, we were communicating.  Of course my offer of 40,000 dom was unacceptible.  I did get a room for a little bit though, I accidently traded myself for one night's stay. Oops, maybe my German is a little rusty.  And I guess I'm too gullible too.  Why would some stranger simply walk up, understand what a tight budget I'm on and then pay for my night at a nice hotel?  Why not?  See, I thought he was the owner at first and then I thought he was just helping me carry my bag.  But once he was in the room, I had seen the room, and he didn't leave, I started to get suspicous.  What does "zusammen" mean again?  Sharp as a tack, I tell you.  So I left and hurried downstairs to clarify.  Ah yes,together, zusammen means together.  The lady and I spent a long time talking.  She couldn't understand why didn't jump at this trade.  What kind of hotel was this?  I felt like a call girl trying to ask the Madame for a night off.  Is that the correct vocabulary?  Then I had the guy who wasn't the owner of the hotel repeating the only english he knew,  "You very beautiful. We go to bed now.  Please." It was like he thought repeating himself enough would make me change my mind.  Or maybe he didn't think I understood.  I was still trying to talk to this lady, she was so funny.  He would interupt periodically by thumping me on the arm and then repeat his english.  I was going back and forth, in German and English, between looking at these two people and the onlookers.  I don't know who they were. I was searching in German how to get across my "why" and I was also trying to figure out when, in the midst of all this, was I going to find a cheap hotel?  In the back of my mind I quit thinking about finding a hotel and just had fun in the chaos.   I did some drawings, the guy was just rude. I've told you before how rude people make me nervous, right?  When you can see how someone can have such total disregard for another person.  That's how he was, oaf, would be a good word.  It was sweet though because another younger guy sort of kept him in check.  Once The Guy left, he even offered $100, hey not bad for a first offer, it was more fun.  More chatting.  Before I knew it it was 11:00 and I had a room at the hotel for $2.  And what a room. a TV, fancy chinese carved furniture with pearl inlay, a big bed, a tea set, my own bathroom, with a bath tub even, the first I've seen. As well as slippers, toothbrushes and towels provided.  So,so nice. I am very very grateful to that sweet lady and her son.

 

Next morning was the cave, exhaustive haggling.  It lasted an hour before I finally gave in.  These motorbike people organize.  No one would undersell another.  I paid $5 for a total of 80 km.  The guy waited for me to return from the cave.  It was absolutely amazing.  I had no idea what I was going to see.  I was quite annoyed when I first arrived and found that the boat ride and entrance were going to cost more than my transportation.  Oh, my "chauffer"  took me to a bank as well.  Another quest I had been on.  I didn't have my passport with me, the hotel required it, so I couldn't cash a travelor's check, instead I exchanged some USD and found out what the exchange rate was.  Always a good thing in haggling.  I was able to understand that the cave and boat were going to cost me about $8.  That's my daily budget!  So I just sat for a bit and moped.  It turns out that the price of the boat is shared, so if you're alone that is how much it costs you.  In about 30 sec. there was a young man asking if I would like to share a boat with him and his friend. My fee was cut in half.  We all had a great time.  The boat goes down Sum river (no idea of the spelling) and actually into the cave.  It was like an amazing gandolla ride.  The entrance was so low that they push along the ceiling to guide the boat.  The cave, called Phong Nha was beautifully lit.  So surreal, so quiet, we were almost always the only boat at a landing.  There were several "shores" to explore and an amazingly steep and numerous staircase to climb.  The staircase was outside along the side of the cliff that housed this cave.  I took lots of pictures but it was pointless.  You have to be there.  I think the  pictures would be fun to digitally enhance though.  We'll see.  It turned out that this young man was going to Quang Tri that day as well.  That was my next destination.  He gave me his business card and told me that he could help me find a cheap place to stay.  I was thrilled.  I would be going somewhere to meet up with someone I already knew.  Even if we had only been friends for a couple of hours.  I was noticing that I hadn't seen any westerners since I had waved goodbye to Sonja on Tues.  Ok, so it was only Thurs, but still.  I kept my eyes open at the cave.  I think I saw one white person but I couldn't tell in the dark.

 

The ride to and from the cave on the motorbike was long and beautiful.  I got to stare at the back of this guy's hole marked shirt and feel like such a mean and greedy westerner for trying to haggle him down to $4 for such a long period of service and such distance covered.  Hey, we even wore helmets.  We left at 11:00 in the morning and didn't get back till maybe 6:30 and for all that he got $5.  He dropped me off at my hotel and him and the lady talked about me.  I think they were both telling thier stories about how cheap I am.  I paid my $2 for my room and went to the curb to hitch a bus.  Everyone feared it was too late for a bus.  That's when some crazy old man on a motorbike waved me down and did a bunch of wild arm gesturing. Luckily someone popped up that knew enougn english to explain that this guy knew of a taxi heading to Quang Tri.  I went to the taxi and haggled my price.  Haggle, haggle, haggle.  I didn't know what a descent price was, didn't know the distance, except for dots that had been drawn on my map by Thai.  I was at a disadvantage though, the timing didn't really give me an option to walk away and they knew it.  And I paid, but the driver did go down about 50 cents.  At least it made me feel better.  I even got to sit in front.  The taxi was a mini van.  I got to choose where to be dropped off.  Too bad I don't know where I'm going.  I showed him the business card.   We made a stop and the guys patting thier bike seats came over, there was a big ruckus and talking.  The driver tried to call the number but it didn't work.  You know, I think the best way to describe my travel expression or whatever would be "deer in the headlights."  That is how I always feel.  Bug-eyed at all this talk that makes no sense, there's always some commotion exploding around me and I just sit there, just like that, a deer in the headlights.  I got out, I got back in and the next time that we stopped I was at a shop.  "Phone,"  the driver pointed and zipped off.  Oh.  Yep, it was a shop that sold time on the phone.  There was a stout little lady with Elton John glasses that sat absolutely crooked on her nose and she sat behind a little glass pane.  I tried the number.  The beeps and tones didn't tell me much except that it didn't seem that the number was working.  So she tried.  Nothing.  NO!  I wanted to be meeting a friend, I didn't want to wander another new city all by myself.  This guy spoke engish- some but it was more than a lot of people speak.  Such as this lady and every customer that came in and crowded around the business card and my drawings.  "This is me in Phang Nha, this is 2 guys at Phang Nha, this is 2 guys on a motorbike, they go to Quang Tri, this is me in Quang Bin, this is me by taxi to Quang Tri.  I had a photo of me and the other guy and I had the business card of another.  Something would work out.  Someone would recognize the friend, someone would know the name on the business card. In the end, after many tries and even calling the business there was an answer. I was almost yelling into the phone. It was like finding a long lost sibling.  With broken english and a lot of differant word combinations we got it across that he would talk to this receptionsist who would tell him where I am and then he would pick me up.  And he did and I found a cheap room and we traveled around the city and he showed me some good places to eat.  And introduced me to more and more friends.  It was so much fun and so nice.  He was so sweet.  He wouldn't accept any money and paid for all my meals. I lost the photograph that I had of me and his friend.  See, you can hire a photographer at the caves and then you get your pics at the end of the day.  His friend had done this and had given me that one that me and him had taken together and it turns out that he's married.  His wife was one of the friends that I met. In Asia jealousy is a sure sign of affection and people love to be affectionate.  I found my scrapbook with the picture torn away.  I'm Sorry!  It was a picture, I liked the cave in the background.  Another friend of Cau Nhan's was a funny lady who kept motioning that him and her were married and even yelled at him in a screechy voice when he adamantly defended himself.  Of course, she was joking and was very sweet.  Alas, I left, came here to Hue. It's full of tourists, oh look, an internet shop.  I have another place for $2.  It's quite interesting the variety I have had.  Last night I was quite sorry when I saw what $2 is really worth.  I could sit on my bed stretch my legs out and touch the opposite wall.  The head of the bed was against one wall and the foot of the bed was against the other.  Do I have to tell you that the bed itself was pushed against the wall as well?  I was also greeted by the cutest little cockroack on my door frame, or a big disgusting one, depending on how you want to look at it.  I "casually" flicked it off but accidentally flicked it onto Cao Nhan.  Oops.  My ride to Hue was hectic. It's the only way to go.  I got one of those group taxis again.  50,000 dom.  That's how much Cao Nhan said it should cost but that's what they asked right up front.  My philosophy is to argue every price and I did but they didn't.  Who cares.  This time I was in the back pressed against the open window and some obnoxious guy.  He was so annoying.  Just kept talking to me in Vietnamese, interupting my reading and then he had this big garbage bag full of something that he tried to have me hold on my lap because he didn't want to have it sitting on his.  I was getting ready to use my special words, not like he would understand.  I didn't though because just the thought of swearing makes me start to smile and that's the last message I wanted to send to him.  He finally motioned that he would sleep and with that passed out and didn't move for the rest of the trip.  Well, "didn't move" isn't quite correct.  More like, he didn't move of his own accord.  Instead his head bounced like a bobble head at every bump, which was pretty much continuous. Smack, smack, smack, his face right into his garbage bag.  I was immensely entertained.  I think once he accidentaly bounced his nose onto his thumb which looked quite painful because the guys here have some sort of fashion where they let their thumbnail grow especially long, at least an inch.  Their pinky as well sometimes.  Very odd.  I still am not sure of that one but one guy motioned like he played an instrument with it.  Maybe he was joking.  

 

Tonight $2 has gotten me a dorm room.  It is about the best dorm room I have ever had.  It's quite small, like a family room size with 6 beds nearly pushed together.  It's at the top of the stairs and that's what the balcony and the stairs open up to, this room of 6, maybe it's 7, beds and then it has a big balcony overlooking the alley.  That's where this hotel is, in a back alley.  This touristy Vietnam is certainly differant than the Vietnam I was in for the last 3 days.  But there is good things about that.  Fixed prices, for one and maybe now I can actually find a shirt in my size.  I can't quite decide which I prefer.  In Tahiti the average girl was nearly twice my size.  I felt comfortable but I felt nervous being surrounded with examples of what "could be".  Here, everyone is half my size but it's not something to envy, it's like comparing myself to munchkins except not as drastic and not put as rudely.  I guess it still makes me feel big and fat.  Fat americans.  I guess I'm just getting annoyed at the difficulty in finding clothes to fit my criteria.  Cheap, cool, flattering, durable, versatile.   Which reminds me, I can't get over it but here they have no concept of hot weather.  They wear whatever is the fashion.  It's about 90 F and there are girls in sweater tops, lycra stretchy stuff, blends, black.  You know, the material that makes up the clothes for going out clubbing.  And layers as well. What is with these people?  It may technically be fall but that doesn't mean anything.  I find more places selling leather coats than t-shirts.  I haven't even seen any tank tops for sale.  I tell you.  Ok, sorry for another immensley lengthy e-mail.  I should try to write more often instead.  Talk to you all later.

 

Love,

Rachael

 

Hey Mom and Dad, got both your mail.  The phones here are $2 a min.  I think I'll be waiting again.  I'm so sad about Jasper!!! I just about cried at the computer.  I'll send a better reply some other time.  I have just taken waaaay too long.  Happy Sabbath.

 

Charity, did you by any chance find a clue in your e-mail that I sent? About a certain something?  If not, take a look, or write to Mom, she knows, wouldn't it be ok if she told you over the internet? 

Greetings from Laos (everyone pronounces it Lao, no 's').  So, catch up time.  I finished my massage course.  I've been practicing a bit as well.  The big thing was the festival after that.  Actually, bigger than that was a painting.  No, I don't know.  Thailand seems old and far away.  Like I was there so long ago.  I thought that Laos and Thailand would be the same, how can 2 Asian countries be so differant?  Well, I'm learning.  First lesson, Laos is communist.  Do I seem really dumb for not knowing that?  Well, I didn't learn that till I was in line at the border patrol.  So that has alerted me to some other differances.  Mostly the night.  In Chaing Mai the night market was just getting going at 7:30.  Here, it is just about finished at 10:00.  Then there is the night life.  Last night I was walking back to my guesthouse in empty streets.  I mean empty.  I saw 3 tourists and a handful of motorbikes during my 10 min. walk.  We had closed down the teahouse, overstayed our welcome and it was a quarter after 12:00 on a Friday night. 

 

The Festival in Thailand is the rice festival, sending flower boats as offerings down the river as a kab kum kah (thankyou  in Thai) to the river god for a successful harvest.  The festival name has an N and a K in it and and I-N-G I'm sure but that's as good as I can remember.  There was fireworks shooting up and across the river.  One girl had a friend that got hit in thre eye as they went across the foot bridge. And sparklers and balloons.  I was thouroughly impressed with the balloons.  They are big paper lanterns really with a flame underneath.  The first night that I looked into the sky and saw orange stars floating about I thought I was dillussional.  It was the balloons.  They really work- unless they catch fire.  After the festival you could find the sooty shells lying in the streets.  It was so cool.  So beautiful.  The festival was a blur though, literaly.  3 nights of celebrating.  One night I got to accompany Jumbo as he talked a Japanese tourist into visiting a lady's bar.  That's an experiance I wouldn't get in St. Cloud.  Sitting in a bar with 2 guys and a bunch of girls who looked really bored.  Jumbo gets a good commision for recommending the place to tourists.  After the last day of the festival I woke up to a stiff and very sore bad knee.  Like I said the festival was a blur, I vaguely remember slipping off the edge of one of the 18 in. high curbs but I didn't really remember hurting my knee, I was more concerned with my face, it's what I used to break my fall.    It wasn't that bad really, just a nice mark by my mouth, sort of like a really bad cold sore.  I had a scrape on my collar bone as well.  What an idiot.  I have given it much thought and prayer though and I have decided that I can't handle alcohol when I am unchaperoned so I have decided that there will be no more drinking till I am back home.  It'll save me money as well.  And I'll have more memories.

 

On Friday I was painting a huge watercolor.  It was 4 full watercolor sheets together.  Chart at the Richly house had requested it.  It was a copy of two watercolors I have done.  It's pretty cool the way that it turned out, even though I had one small brush.  A lot of the colors were done with pouring.  Boon and Apple watched me paint all over thier floor.  It was great.  I did have a hard time of it.  Took me all day.  Lots of breaks and pauses.  During one of those pauses I was scratching my head in thought, sometimes staring into a mirror and that's when I found THEM!  RRRRRR,  I was so mad, disgusted, whatever.  Lice, shhh.  I hate them.  I forgot about my budget and went out and bought a bunch of various soaps, found the Thai word for turpentine and experamented.  Someone told me turpenoid works but I couldn't find the word for that.  So far my hair hasn't fallen out.  In fact the turpentine didn't seem to affect it but I did kill the lice.  I washed all my bedding as well and clothes.  Does anyone have any other suggestions?  I can't quite figure out when I got it, all I know is that it has been awhile because the knits were thick, and in the front of my head.  I thought they usually started behind the ears.  I'm afraid it's going to be really hard to get rid of.  My clothes, my backpack.  Everything seemed like it had worked but my head is itchy today.  I don't know if it's paranoia or not but I've got to make sure.  Lice is so common when traveling and I'll be going to other poor countries.   I would like to be natural, I would like to prevent them, tea tree oil?  I bought that.  Any other repellants?  Killers?  Anyways, sorry to bring it up but let me know about any suggestions.

 

Tues is when I left for Lao.  There seems to be one route there and it's a tourist package.  I bought that.  paid about $30 or so.  Pretty cheap, it included a 5 hr bus ride, 2 day boat ride, 1 night in a guesthouse and 3 free meals.  Well, the meals were not too good.  Small watery portions.  I met a group of Isrealis and they were quite unhappy with everything.  I ordered the spaghetti and regretted it when I saw thier orders but when mine came I had a chicked breast in some sort of cream sauce, a delicous little salad, and french fries, big, delicous and filling.  I didn't complain.  It turns out the meal that was brought was something off the off-limits section of the menu, not normally a free meal.  Cool.  The rooms smelled like old hay or mold, depending on your sense of smell.  It reminded me of our barn.  This was Chang Kong, the border town of Thailand.  Now, crossing the border on Wed was a wild adventure.  There were loads of tour groups with various stickers and tickets to produce.  I got my exit stamp for Thailand, crowded into a tiny long boat, crossed the river and got my Lao stamp.  My passport is so full! On the minibus ride to Chang Kong I met Steve, an aussie doctor who has just spent a year working in a refugee camp in Tanzania, you can't beat that.  He has more stamps than me.  People were exchanging Baht for Kip.  The Lao money.  It comes in bricks.  10,000 kip equals $1.  The guy that exchanged $50 had bricks of 5,000 kip notes.  Since then I have seen notes of 20,000 but they are rare and the exchange places don't hand them out. 

 

After that we got VIP tags and 10 of us were shuttled to an extended cab pick-up with all our backpacks piled in the back.  How were we supposed to fit in that?  Solution: pile the backpacks higher and sit on the edge.  Hang on tight.  Oh.  We were all laughing at our VIP transportation as 6 of us clung to heaps of backpacks and bounced over planks that were barely bridges.  The boats were stuffed and it was a long crammed ride to Prabang, 6 hrs?  We had a little pit-stop when our boat over heated.   My room that night looked more like our barn, you could see through the cracks in the planks.  It was cheap and cozy though.  60 baht, about $1.50.  In the evening I attempted to paint the guesthouse but it got too dark and I was soon surrounded by easily impressed children.  I switched and drew stamp sized cartoons for all of them. I copied from all their clothing.  There got to be more and more children who quickly got bored, strted pushing snd in all ended in a riot, the last of my pictures were shredded, much crying.  I went and found the isrealis who taught me whist.  I did failed card tricks a Thai massage and went to bed.

 

Thurs I was up at 6:30 afraid of sleeping in and missing the boat.  I was standing on the hill/street looking out at the water trying to decide if it was all worthy of a photogragh when I saw a woman with a basket come and kneel by the road.  The basket is the kind they use for sticky rice, it looks like what we keep our chess pieces in at home.  Pretty soon there was another woman and another.  What were they doing?  I turned around and there was a line of 20 monks coming down the hill.  They walked down the right side of the street, did a u-turn and came up the left side. They stopped at each woman who put a wad of rice into each of their brass spitoons that they were carrying.  I debated about a picture but didn't take it.  My favorite expression was Steve stumbling out of his guesthouse in nothing but his shorts, all bleery eyed and getting a glimpse of this orange procession outside his front door.  Priceless.  And I didn't take a picture.  I'm kicking myself for it now. 

 

When we got on the boat that morning there were oohs and aahs of delight.  What a wonderful spacious boat!  The ceiling so high you could actually stand.  The seats were wide enough to sit two people with space between and there was enough leg room so your knees weren't even touching the seat in front of you.   Not only that but there was cushions!  The aisles were so wide as well.  Now imagine what the boat was like the day before.  I was so scrunched in the seat, my knees curled up, crushing into the back of the other seat and it was always entertaining to watch the tourists bump thier head on every beam as they stumbled by.  The best part of this boat was the the space on the floor in back.  There was a whole group that sat on thier sleeping bags in back, they were passing around a fat joint.  I was even able to lay out my sleeping bag and do 2 full Thai massages.    Guess what, I forgot my bedroll in Pakbang.  I was so annoyed.  I realised it when we got on the boat and I debated about going back for it but it was already 10 min. after 8:00 and the boats were scheduled to leave at 8:00.  Going by how the schedules usually run around here I thought I might possibly have enough time to run back and get it but I decided not to risk missing my boat.  We left about 5 after 9:00.  Darn.  We were a big happy family.  I didn't see as much of the beautiful scenery.  Jungles, little villages, men tossing the little nets for fishing, layered sandy beeches.  We were all sorry when the boat arrived in Luang Prabang.  Before that though there was a stop at some holy caves.  They are where old relics are stored once they are outdated.  It was like a Buddist attic.  Cave exploring is not the same as what I have experianced.  No lighting, instead they rented out flashlights.  We didn't use them, people stumbled around till thier eyes adjusted.  Or used camera lights, indiglo watches, flashlight keychains.  Whoever had a light became the popular tourguide. 

 

In Luang Prabang there was the usual crowd of guesthouse advertisers.  Everyone from the boat walked together, trying not to seperate but we slowly did.  I ended up with 3 other girls and we were able to share 2 rooms at $1.50 a piece.  Very nice.  The toilets had toilet paper and hot showers.  Such luxury.  And real flushing non-squatting toilets.  Most toilets have a bucket of water and a bowl for a dipper.  A few bowls of water rinses down the toilet.  I had $5 cash on me.  It was $5 that I had found in my camera bag.  I was in desperate need of  a bank but I wanted only US dollars and so far no exchanges would do that.  There are NO ATMs in Laos.  We girls ate at an indian restaurant that night.  Well, they ate.  I tried to save money and split a meal with Sharon, the New Zealander but it ended up costing me twice as much as what I would have paid on my own.  Oh well.  After meeting up with more backpackers from the boat and talking up a storm we went back to our guesthouse and got to be serenaded by guitar music and sounds of violent puking.  Puking is a sound I have heard a lot on this trip.  It continuosly makes me grateful for my good health.  I say about 1 in 5 people I have met have been puking ill or at least know someone else that was.  I'll keep washing my hands and eating clean meat. 

 

On Friday we all were determined to see some spectacular waterfall that is in the area.  I had to move out of the mekong guesthouse because my roommate moved as well.  I needed a cheaper bed.  We went out for coffee, met the Isrealis, the guys that were sitting on the floor of the boat and a number of others.  We had the same tuk tuk driver that us girls had hired the night before when we were searching for guesthouses.  He speaks good english.  The waterfall was spectacular and I am sorry to say that it is probably the most beautiful that I have seen, otherwise it used to be the ones I saw in Katoomba, Australia.  I painted a bit but didn't get to finish it to satisfaction.  It just got too late.  We had a great hour long discussion about books we read as children and the books that have most influenced our lives.  After the waterfall I still needed to find a guesthouse.  I searched out the Merry Guesthouse which the tuk tuk driver, Ting, shuttled me for free, there, to my old guesthouse for my things, and back.  All for free.  He wanted a date, too bad, but he was sweet.  I went out to meet everyone for supper.  There were 6 of us this time and we shared all our dishes, a wonderfull tastefest but expensive, $2.80 a piece for the whole meal.  I also bought my Laos skirt for the bus rides that I have ahead of me, $4.  I guess the bus stops have no toilets so a skirt and no underwear are the solutions for portable privacy.  I am excited to come home and demonstrate how these skirts work.  I had to do a demonstration for the backpackers as well.  This was after the shopkeeper had showed me many times.  It's simple really.  They are a wide tube that you wrap and tuck like a towel.  Mine is shimmery green with what we have a agreed must be scorpians emgroidered on it.  They are pretty primitive looking scorpians.  No tail or anything.  More like tapered worms with pinchers. 

 

Sat I slept and then searched out a restaurant.  When I had gone and checked into the Merry Guesthouse we were in the midst of a power outage so I hadn't seen what was down the rest of the dirt alley.  There is actually a cluster of guesthouses and a sign advertising a restaurant.  I wanted sticky rice and I really couldn't afford any more spending after my last 2 days of splurging.  I was hungry though.  Someone stepped out of a guesthouse and offered assistance.  I told them of my quest for sticky rice.  He brought some out as well as dried seaweed and offered a fried egg.  All at no charge he assured.  I was so moved by this act of kindness right when I really needed it and on the Sabbath and all that.  I sat and cried while I ate my sticky rice.  When he came back out and saw this he smiled at the "hot" chilly sauce.  I smiled and nodded.  Hot, it's my kind of hot, more like taco sauce.  I didn't care to explain.  A really cute guy came in on a scooter and soon I was surrounded by frenchmen.  They are working on temple conservation projects or something cool like that.  I also met a guy from Tenessee and we grumbled about America's bombardment of Iraq.  He had the meanest and most truthful ways of putting things.  After that I stepped into a cozy book store and observed what travelors had read and sold along the way.  I want to read some of those influential books.  Upstairs was seating on the floor, sales of tea and coffee and walls of National Geographics.  I loooked through those with senitment.  One was the JAN 2000 issue.  It has a  roadtrip that the author and photographer took that covers some of the same places that I went on on my roadtrip.  It even has a picture of the exact corner that I parked my VW bug at and the mercantile that I sat and painted.  Remember where I met you Melda?  It's that  exact place.  Another National Geographic I remember looking at when I was really little about a woman that traveled across Australia on camels.  I read it to see if it crossed any places that I was at.  And guess what, she stopped at Glen Ayle station, the one that I stayed at.  It even mentions the Wards.  Lou and Rex, both who I met were just boys, Lou is the father that taught me how to plait leather.  It was so amazing to read about Robyn seeing the flower garden and to realize that I had seen the same one.  It's all in National Geographic.  Oneday I want to write them and tell them how much they have influenced my life.  I grew up reading articles of faraway places and only dreamt of seeing them.  And now today is Sunday and I am in LAOS.  I started this e-mail last night but they closed shop and I had to leave it till now.  I didn't actually sleep last night because I had slept all day.  I used this opportunity to go to the top of the hill and watch the sunrise, there is a temple there.  It's right in the center of town, dividing me from the main street but I never saw it till I went to the Merry Guesthouse.  I've also walked past the stairs that lead to the top.  The top was beautiful and quiet, covered by a cloud.  I never saw the sun.  Instead a young novice came out and I showed him my scrapbook.  Did you know that the monks aren't allowed to touch women?  I think I mentioned that before but I just can't get over that.   Any of you girls ever want to come out and cause a little mischief just hug a monk.  When they are in the streets they are always watching and will step off the sidewalk or even cross the street to avoid you.  This boy though, he touched my shoulder and I suddenly felt really sorry for him.  He doesn't get any motherly love.  No hugs and all that.  No one was around, you could tell that he was nervous, always jumping at any sound, keeping a careful watch.  I wanted to hug and cuddle him to make up for all the lost moments.  He was a little old for that though, maybe 13.  They are a little awkward at that age.  Well, I learned another thing.  Whatever.  He wasn't looking for motherly love he was a gropey little 14 yr. old.  I wanted to laugh and I did.  I was on top of the world, in a cloud,  at the steps of a temple getting the moves put on me by a 14 yr old boy wrapped in an orange sheet.  When he finally had to leave I met up with a couple americans and we walked down to see the monk procession on the street.  The monks do the same thing as what they did in Pakbang.  This was a lot differant though.  We were chased around by ladies with little banana leaf packages of rice.  We were supposed to buy these and get the full Laos experiance of putting these in the metal lunch buckets of the monks.  There was also a pack of photographers at the head of the line snapping pictures.  I met up with Vanessa, the english girl , one of the 3 that I had spent time with.  I took pictures for her and after that we went to the morning market and looked at the disgusting things that people eat and sell.  There were strings of live toads with one leg tied to make a little swarming warty bundle.  My favorite was the fried rat on a stick, seriously, head, teeth and all, their middle was just split open and gutted.  I think there were cow scalps as well they weren't quite identifiable.  Vanessa snapped a ton of pictures so I did as well.  You'll be able to see it all.  Snakes, dried squid on a stick, squid in a bowl, cockroaches and tables of unidentifiable things.  It was great.  We bought some woodchips that are good for sore throats and plan to use those today.  I bought a pineapple for 30 cents .  A quarter slice of watermelon for 10.  So much fun.

 

So, today I hope to give Vanessa a Thai massage, she gave me a skirt, the popular skirt sold at all the Thai markets, and maybe Katy, from Arizona, as well.  Then I will catch the bus to Vientien, around 12 hours, and tomorrow night I hope to begin my 23 hr bus ride to Vietnam.  I would like to break it up along the way though and visit some little villages, we'll see.  All in all I like Lao.  I feel a little bad, the rich white tourist with no handfuls of money to hand out.  It's sort of strange, every once in awhile I think I hear people say something rude in english like "go home now".   I'm not quite sure because it always sounds like the Laos are speaking Laos.  The other night as I was at the night market I was almost posative I heard an old woman mutter "bitch" when I didn't pause to look at her things.  Like I said, I'm never really sure but it has left an undertone and I wonder how eager people really are about us farang.  Oh well, selective hearing is helpful.  Talk to you later.

 

Love,

Rachael

Hey all! I made it to Thailand!  Actually that's old news but I just haven't shared it till now.  I am still apolagizing to Mom and Dad.  That was not nice at all to wait all of 10 days or whatever to make contact.  I'll blame it on Melda.  Hi Melda!  No, it was my fault.  It's just that she sent me a real thought provoking e-mail.  She said to send something "meaningful"  when I get the chance. 

 

I arrived in Bangkok, a bit bleary, it was 1 am.  I spent some obsene amount of money to get a taxi to Koh San Road.  It's like THE famous road of Bangkok but it's really just a little street.  I don't think it ever closes.  The streets were filled as I was wandering down them.  I did the usual, found a tiny place to sleep, explored, immediately got hassled by some guy from Sri Lanka or something.  So far he has been my most annoying experiance and it happened like, right off the plane.  It was good timing though because I was pretty comfortable at "being assertive" after 18 hrs of travel time.  I was thinking of you Nina,  yep, I practiced lots of swear words. It took about 1/2 an hour for him to catch on.  He just followed me up and down the street.  I finally got a little vocal (oops) and I think he got the hint when other people turned thier heads.  After that I checked my e-mail.  Read Dad's sweet message and thought of saying hi but for some demented reason I didn't.  Instead I thought about Melda's words and felt really meaningless.  Here I am in another country, on another trip short on money and what am I getting done?  All I do is talk about myself to all my friends which is a blast but it's not exactly a selfless act. 

 

Sat.  I slept all day to the sounds of 3 differant songs blasting simultaneously ALL day long.  One was an Eminem cd then there was a pop mix in there.  It made a sort of buzzing din.  I was bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 1 am once again.  So I tried out a little shopping. I wasn't looking forward to it because as a newby this is the street to get ripped off at.  I got some big loose pants though for about $3.  By Mon. they had paid for themselves.  I even noted the time. 

 

Sun. was when I tried to organize my thoughts and actually come up with a plan.  I found myself bussed off to a travel agency and suddenly this girl was laying out my entire time in Asia.  I was shoveling out money forgeting about my excruciatingly tight budge, just happy to have a plan.  She showed me where I would walk that day, what town I would visit on Mon, the people that would pick me up from the train on Tues and the 3-day trek I would go on on Wed.  Chip chop, all done.  So I did just what she said.  I went for my walk in Bangkok, visited a temple, saw monks and a river taxi and the guest house she told me to stay at.  Bangkok is a strange place.  There is this constant buzz of everyone in motion but all the streets are so small and narrow that it really is confined.  You don't feel so outnumbered.  It's you and whoever is on that street and it's actually really calming.  Everyone had a card table set up selling thier wares, some were watch repairers, lottery tickets, some really random odds and ends, cd copies, on and on.  I was in China Town.   I also have to say how much I liked the water taxis.  They are these long long boats with a gigantic engine in back and this long metal pole sticking in the water.  I believe the propellar is on that.  The best part though is this "dock" that's some oil drums and old wood planks nailed together.  No rails,  It's built around posts that are in the water so it doesn't float away it just rocks up and down these posts as these long boats zoom by.  No "no wake" zones here.  Then there is this huge, foot wide painted yellow line about 6 in. from the edge of this raft and stenciled in english and Thai it says "safety first."  Other travelors and I joked about that later.  Yes,  there's safety first, unitl you leap onto the boat as it pulls up.  The timing has to go with the wakes.  The tie-up guy leaps off the boat as it swings into the dock and gives a good rattle, dumping anyone who wants to get off. You have to make your leap as it rocks back with the ebbing wake.  If everyone is fast the tie-up guy is throwing the rope into the boat and jumping in himself with that same rockaway wave.  

 

The street that I stayed on that 3rd night was lined with burnt shells of cars, it turns out that some of them actually run.  It definately looked a bit shady but you could see tourists walking up and down on the other end.  I found a Thai Boxing place.  Cool.  Mon. Was a train to Ayatthaya.  Another thing that can mess you up in Thailand is that the english translations for streets are only written how they sound so the map and the street signs don't always appear to match until you sound them out.  Like Ayatthaya also was written Ayadgha at the train station.  It costs 2 Baht to get across a river.  That's maybe a nickel?  I walked to one end of town and back, saw some stone carvers.  I think they have to be obsessive complusive or something for the work that they do.  So intricate.  I walked around the outer walls of the temples because I was too cheap to pay to get in and then had 5 hrs to wait for the night train.  Blah. That's when I'm glad I like art.  I sat in some market and painted some stalls.  It's a great way to people watch and meet people as well.  I have been really happy with the sellers here.  I was expecting Morocco.  There they just won't stop haggling.  Here you can say, "no thankyou,"  with a smile, walk away and NOT be followed- usually.    I walked a ways with a South Africa girl while in Bangkok and we were chased by these older ladies that kept putting little baggies of opened corn in our arms and wanted us to dump it on the ground.  Then they wanted money. 

 

I arrived in Chang Mai the next morning.  See, I took a night train.  I also met 2 other solo traveling girls, a Canadian and an Irish.  We are all the same age.  Actually, Megan's birthday is 2 days before me.  Weird.  And she was the one from Canada.  I ended up talking them into the same trek I was going on.  It was almost posh to arrive at the train station (an hour and a half late) and see my name being heald up.  It also ended all hassles from other guesthouses.  We all stayed at the Richly Guesthouse.  So nice, huge double bed, your own bathroom, a fan.  200 baht, that's about $5.  I've had a meal for 25 cents.  So cool.  And reall Pad thai!  Guess what you see all over the place.  Those nozzles that attach to kitchen faucets.  Do you know what I'm talking about?  They have that flexible hose and it makes it so conveniant to spray off your dishes.  I don't see these nozzles in kitchens though, so guess what I've only seen ONCE since I've been here.  Toilet paper.  Do you see what I'm getting at?  Most toilets are those kind that you squat on.  Ever seen those?  I have once or twice in the states.  Olga though, was saying that she has seen "our" kind of toilets with feet marks on the seats made by some little kid that used it like a squatting toilet.  Ahhhh. 

 

So, Tuesday's arrival was followed by sightseeing.  Or something like it.  Tourists are shuffled around to huge department stores and are tricked into thinking it is some great cultural experiance while the driver is given gas money for bringing them there and leaving them for 15 min.  We visited a silvermaking factory, saw some of the guys at work.  Then there was umbrella painting, silk weaving and there would have been more but we asked to get out.  Chart, he is the boss of Richly's and he was our driver that day.  Another chance to feel posh, we left our purchases with "our driver" and then got dropped off for shopping.  I bought a few more things, egged on by spend-happy girls.  Shame, shame. 

 

But the trek.  What can I say about that?  Yes, it was all arranged and you just followed your guide but it was so beautiful, so amazing.  I was nowhere near e-mail!!  See? It started off with an elephant ride.  Those things are BIG.  The ride was sitting on top of this elephant for an hour while it wandered around and ate.  Once in awhile it's master would clock it on the head with something like a hammer.  To make it interesting I got to try to sit on it's head.  Your like 10 ft up! On some head that's yanking on a vine as big as my arm. 

 

We were a good bit into our trek when I twisted my ankle.  Pretty good too.  I was hobbling along to the next resting stop.  I guess my sandals are more for fashion and my ankle hadn't quite healed from twisting it in Alaska.  It's been sore.  Well, one of the guides, Jumbo, looked at it, did some painful Thai massage and after our break I didn't limp.  Mong, the other guide cut me a walking stick and I was good to go!  I was thinking of the Appalacian Trail the whole time.  A walking stick is a life saver.  Lucky for me my bad ankle and bad knee are on the same leg.  I can limp like a true gimp.  Awesome.  Food was amazing, villagers were sweet. The water was fun.  There was one of those rapids slides, very fun.  Hiking was a real challenge.  I don't know if that is good or bad.  I liked it because it wasn't like a nature stroll but if I am supposed to last 6 months I feel terrible.  Huffing and puffing like that.  If you wanted you could unload your water and make the guides carry it.  They also carried a good portion of the food for the 3 days.  They were also trotting along, bored out of thier minds at the slow pace. 

 

The village though.  Oh, it was so wonderful.  These huts on stilts, no electricity.  Gardens, water buffalo.  The villagers all work in the rice fields together then the harvest is divided amongst them.  Everyone was beautiful and looked so happy.  Well, what would I know, I only stayed there one night.  But, just so you know, if you ever lose contact and never hear from me again it's because I've gone off and kidnapped myself into one of these sort of villages.  It was so peaceful.  I remember the first time that I heard peace and quiet in Thailand, it was at the back wall of a burnt out temple in Ayatthaya.  Here it was constant quiet as well.  It was so simple.  Sitting on the floor.  One day we had a packed lunch which was wrapped in banana leaves with twisted bark to tie it together.  Mong made us chopsticks from the bamboo along the way.  The huts seem so rickety.  The floor is poles spaced apart poles every foot or so and flattened bamboo is on top for the floor so you always have a lot of spring.  All we had was a grass mat to sleep on and it was so comfortable. The mosquito nets were even beautiful.  Why can't I just stay here and live?  The down side of the trek was Megan and Barbara got terribly ill.  Both ends.  It went all night.  Our group was 5 girls.  Two Swiss girls.  I was trying to tell them about a swiss song that Nina had been trying to teach me but nothing relevant could be recalled.  Mong and Jumbo remarked about how differant it is to lead a group of all girls.  I think they felt like they had to baby us more.  They said something about being more gentle. They were too.  Oh they were sweet.  A little too sweet when it came to bedding down for the night, though.  Just about all the girls had something to say about that once we were out at the bars. 

 

That's what we did when we got back. Bars!  First we ended the trek with a raft trip down the river.  SO beautiful!  I can't describe it and they highly recommended not taking a camera.  These were long bamboo rafts tied together with strips of tires. Stephanie got to steer in back, me and Olga just sat and stared.  There were elephants grazing along the shore, people picnicing in grass huts that looked like that was thier purpose for being built.  Anyone that was swimming was obliged to splash us.  There was rickety bridges that crossed the river like the ones we had had to cross on our trek as well.  Sometimes some of the raft would go underwater, like thruogh rapids.  Around one bend there was a raft of musicians, they had a stringed thing and a drum.  There was also a raft that had broken apart and the tourists were holding the bamboo poles in place while the guide lashed it back together.  It was so amazingly relaxing.  Especially after 3 hot muggy days in jungle. 

 

On the way back Jumbo crawled up on the roof of our truck, I followed because he thought that I couldn't, and we enjoyed the whole trip home sitting in the luggage rack, getting stares from passing mo-peds. That is the way to see countryside.  Jumbo continued to be our guide in the city that night.  Helped to get us tuk tuks and find the restaraunts that Olga wanted to go to.  I had had time to add up how much money I have spent and had lost my appetite.  I am content to eat rice for the next 2 months (13 cents a meal).  So I watched everyone else eat and "tasted" the left overs.  I also had had time to think about Thai massage and concluded that it would be a good investment for someone who plans on going on a 6 month trek.  Carrie, your muscles will be so well taken care of.  Hopefully I will be able to practice enough and be able to charge money by the time I get to the States.  This is why I am eating rice.  Jumbo and I hung out most of the night.  "Just friends"  like brother and sister.  I punched him plenty, just like I do for my brothers, whenever he needed a little reminding.  Jumbo really has been a great help.  We talked a lot on the trek about life and my long term and travel goals.  He knows how short I am on money and went about trying to help me find cheaper accomadation as soon as we got back from the trek.  I think we were home from the bars by 5:00.  Yes, Thailand is a big party place.  It's hard not to party when you are in the company of Irish.  I met so many people, so many wierd conversations.  Wierd.  It was great.  Saturday came and went without me realizing it.  I slept.  Read.  Jumbo asked me to go out to some party with him.  It was just friends.  No bars. I still don't quite know what it was.  It was a whole bunch of boys sitting on the floor eating from the same dishes.  I also met his sister and by the end of the night his brother-in-law had invited me to stay for the rest of my time in Chang Mai at thier place.  I couldn't believe it.

 

That's where I am now.  I've had my second day of Thai Massage lessons.  I signed up for 5 days.  You get a certificate if you do 5 days.  My teacher is so annoyed at what a slow learner I am.  I was lucky to have my first Thai massage as well.  Pretty odd.  Oh, but if you do it right.  I just think of all those sore muscles on the Appalacian Trail.  I'm also cramming trying to learn Thai.  Jumbo's relatives are not as fluent in english as he is.  Still, it's been interesting.  It all worked out well.  See, my passport is in Bangkok getting filled with $150 worth of visas or whatever.  Now someone has told me that as an american this is all unneccesary.  Whatever!  So my visa won't arrive in Chang Mai till the 6th.  The 9th is a huge festival on the water.  Jumbo says that only couples can attend this festival.  Now, is it me or does that sound like a come-on line?  Anyways, true or not, Jumbo will show me around.  Or so he says.  He's always running off trying to talk to every white girl he can.  He even has a girlfriend in Norway.  Anyways, IF he doesn't get distracted before the 9th.  He's off on another 3 day hike right now.  Then I hope to be seeing some big celebrating going on.  Don't know what it's for though. 

 

Chang Mai is full of these little twisting alley streets, it's just crazy.  I've gone on a few motor bike rides and was immediately lost.  I got a big test yesterday in directions as I tried to retrace steps to and from the massage place, Boon's house (where I now stay), and the Richly Guesthouse.  Then the streets are oneway so the route is differant depending wether your coming or going.  It was great fun zooming along behind Jumbo as he pointed out landmarks that looked identical to everything else we had just passed.  I walk it.  It's a good 1/2 hour walk, maybe more.  I love that.  I should really be getting going too.  It's about 7:00.  I think I'll be leaving on the 10th for Laos.  I don't look forward to it.  People don't have many good things to say.  I have to remember though that that means nothing.  Zero has been giving me advice.  I met Zero when we first arrived at the Richly house.  He was obviously american and odd.  No accent either.  Guess where he's from, Minneapolis. He had even applied to the same Arts Highschool that I attended!  How wierd is that?  He's been comparing Laos to Wisconsin Dells.  We both laugh because we're the only ones that understand that comparison.  It's been fun to talk to a fellow Minnesotan.  He'll be around for awhile.  Sigh, I always keep moving.  My last Thai Massage class is Thursday. I'm trying to decide if I will do anything exploration-wise on Friday.  I would really like to spend a day working in a rice field in one of these villages.  Jumbo comes from a hill tribe village.     I'll try not to fill you guys with my budget and money saving but it's rather funny because in 8 days I spent one month's proposed budget.  Hee hee.   Maybe I was being a little extreme. But, with this massage course they also give me lunch.  I save 50 cents.  Woo-hoo.  All right.  Gotta go.  Once again, Mom and Dad, I am really really sorry (really).  That reminds me.  Jumbo said that a canadian girl hung herself, they found her on Saturday night.  He says he met her the night before.  Wierd.  She had been living here as a teacher.  The speculations was that it was heartbreak.   I tell you.  All right, for real this time,  BYE!! 

 

Love,

Rachael

 

Mom, do you remember some Alaska photograghs?  Have you seen them?  Can you find them?